


We're From the Government

by CatLovePower



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Angels, Angels Are Weird, Humor, UST, doesn't make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatLovePower/pseuds/CatLovePower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just Fiore and DeBlanc being confused by earthly things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Мы из правительства](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8049904) by [Chiterabob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiterabob/pseuds/Chiterabob)



_“I think there’s something wrong with this body”._

Fiore said “this”, as if his current physical form weren’t really his. And in a sense, that was true; they both were wearing meat costumes that felt alien and strange most of the time.

His voice, slightly high pitched, with a tight urgency, was coming from the small bathroom of their motel room.

DeBlanc started imagining the other angel, stark naked in the bathtub, looking down at his weird body, with that confused puppy look of his. The thought lingered for a few seconds before he realized where it was going and put an end to it. Instead, he focused on a moldy spot on the ceiling, on the soft mattress underneath his back, on the muffled television sounds coming from the room next door. Earthly distractions; they really had no time for that.

_“Seriously, I think it might be turning bad.”_

They had died once already, and then come back. There was nothing wrong with their bodies. They were efficient, inconspicuous enough, dressed appropriately for the locality…

 _“Could you come take a look?”_  And now there was something akin to desperation in Fiore’s voice.

DeBlanc groaned. The bed _was_ comfortable, and all the tiny noises outside were soothing, he really didn’t want to get up and watch Fiore freak out in the bathroom. He rolled and got up from the bed.

“You better not be naked in there…”

Fiore was standing in front of the sink mirror, staring at his reflection and gripping the porcelain with such force that his knuckles were turning white. He looked upset, and a little red in the face; DeBlanc was actually curious to know what had gotten into him.

“Look at that! It’s flaking now!” Fiore sounded so sad and disappointed about his failing body, it was like looking at a child.

“Come here.” DeBlanc gently led the other angel away from the sink and had him sit on the edge of the tub to get a better look at his face.

“It may be a disease… You should kill me… I’ll come back as good as new…”

“You’ll be quite alright,” DeBlanc said, and his deep, confident voice put a halt to Fiore increasingly panicked ramblings. He put a hand on Fiore’s shoulder, trying to convey his message the best he could. Touching, what a strange human thing. It proved effective, because Fiore raised his wet eyes and asked, “Sure?”

“Certain.”

“What is it then?”

“Your body is fair skinned, we’re in Texas.” It seemed obvious enough to DeBlanc, but Fiore kept looking at him with a dumb, expectant look.

“It’s just sunburn,” DeBlanc sighed. “It’ll heal. Next time don’t forget your hat.”

 

 

 


	2. Fork

There was absolutely no need for them to eat. They didn’t know the biology behind that, but their bodies were human, and not human at the same time. Still, watching Fiore fixate all night long on food advertisements on television was starting to make his own mouth water as well.

Decisions were made, directions were asked. Soon they were driving in silence on a dark road, looking for a diner open at such a late hour. Spur of the moment, one might say. All they currently had to do was wait, after all. For an opportunity, an idea, a sign (DeBlanc didn’t believe in signs, but since they were clearly at a loss with their mission, maybe food ads could be considered signs).

Their booth had bright red vinyl seats, a little cracked, cheap looking. The table was dirty and the waitress gave them the stink eye when the doorbell went ‘ting’. DeBlanc didn’t use to care for such details, but the longer they spent on Earth, the more he seemed to notice small things.  

“I’ll have one Big as Texas burger,” Fiore recited. He was sitting straight and looked quite serious, but DeBlanc could tell he was really excited about the whole diner experience.

The bored waitress shook her head and made a disapproving sound with her chewing-gum filled mouth.

“Don’t have those, honey.”

‘Honey’, what a nice term of endearment... Of course, it didn’t mean anything in this situation, because Fiore didn’t know this woman, but it sounded sweet and interesting. DeBlanc made a mental note to remember it. The awkward silence in the diner brought him out of his reverie.

He raised his eyes and took in the scene; the small waitress, ready to take an order that wouldn’t come, Fiore, looking increasingly panicked under his big hat.

“He’ll have your biggest burger, thanks,” DeBlanc stepped in. The waitress clicked her pen, didn’t even bother to ask him what he’d like, and disappeared into the kitchen.

They waited in silence – a comfortable silence, this time; they didn’t feel the need to talk like human did. The fluorescent light outside made a nice buzzing sound and DeBlanc began tapping on the table with the tip of his index finger. By human standards, it should have been annoying, but DeBlanc found the repetition comforting. And it allowed him to know exactly what was on Fiore’s mind. _Will this burger be as satisfying as the one on TV? How will it taste? Will it be good?_

Then the waitress brought Fiore’s burger, and he looked like a child on Christmas; the neon from outside made his eyes shine, or maybe that was just pure, unadulterated gluttony. DeBlanc settled for a sweet tea while watching Fiore dig in with a ridiculously large smile on his face.

The patty was bleeding a bit on the plate, or maybe it was sauce. Small droplets of red amid the fries, a fascinating sight. DeBlanc realized he had been playing with his fork for a while now; the metal felt heavy in his hand. It reminded him of his former job.

Feeling mischievous, he asked, indicating the empty plate, “You do know all that will have to come out somehow, right?”

The look of confusion on his partner’s face was priceless.

**Author's Note:**

> There may, or may not, be other vignettes in the near future.
> 
> English is not my first language, so please, feel free to point out any inaccuracies. Feedback is love.


End file.
